


Stomp me down, I'll keep on climbin' (until you cut the rope)

by freolia



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Discrimination, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marking, Omega Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Soulmates, Top!Howard, World War II, alpha howard stark, bottom!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7351987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freolia/pseuds/freolia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a tale about true pairings, soulbonds as they’re sometimes called, one that Steve’s heard since his childhood. It’s said that when an alpha and an omega realise who they’re supposed to be with, who they’re going to spend the rest of their lives with, their eyes <i>glow</i>.<br/>~*~<br/>Steve has always fought for what he thinks is right. It's hard when you're a sick omega. It's even harder when your morals clash with your instincts over a genius engineer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stomp me down, I'll keep on climbin' (until you cut the rope)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mm8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/gifts).



> Hello, dear npt player! I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> I had to look up several of your DNW's as I'd never heard of figging and clothesline zip kink. Turns out I am not into hardcore bdsm!
> 
> I did my best to stay away from any dislikes you listed, I'm so sorry if I hit one accidentally. Lots of love <3
> 
> Warning for (badly written) smut!

There’s a tale about true pairings, soulbonds as they’re sometimes called, one that Steve’s heard since his childhood. It’s said that when an alpha and an omega realise who they’re supposed to be with, who they’re going to spend the rest of their lives with, their eyes _glow_.

Even if it was true – Bucky’s mother’s aunt’s cousin had supposedly known a couple who could light up a room with their eyes – it was ridiculously rare. Hardly any pairs were ever actually _meant_ for each other. Most people settled for what they could get.

He’d always loved the story, but had never really believed it. Nobody he knew had glowing eyes, not even his mother – and if her eyes didn’t light up from the way she spoke about his dad, nobody else could either.

He’d never questioned the complete absence of colour in her eyes, not until he saw himself almost one hundred years later.

*

The punches hit his ribs like clockwork, forcing the air from his lungs in some crappy back alley in Brooklyn.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” _Punch._

“Stupid, fucking omega. You’re never going to find a mate.” _Kick._

Steve looked up at his attacker with a bloodied smile and a defiant tone. “I’d rather never find a mate, than have to deal with someone like you.”

The alpha glared down at him with disgust. “You really think you’re important? You’re nothing.” He pulled Steve up by the front of his shirt. “I could kill you, leave you here to bleed, and you think anyone would really care?”

One of the guy’s friends pulled at his arm. “Hey, John, you didn’t say anything about killing him.” he said worriedly. John stared at Steve for a moment more. Steve matched his gaze, not blinking. He was not scared, he was not running away. His heart pounded in his ears, reminding him he was still alive, reminding him that he was more than his gender assignment.

“He’s not worth it.” John finally sneered, pushing Steve away. He stumbled backwards, grabbing the wall so as not to fall as the men walked out of the alley. Their leader turned once to spit in Steve’s direction as they left.

As they finally disappeared, he let his knees fold and he slid to the ground. Pressing a hand to his side, he winced. Another broken rib. Bucky would kill him. He wiped the blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up with a grunt. He took a moment to pull his chin up again, before stumbling out of the darkness and back onto the street. He needed to get home.

Thankfully, there were very few people on the street at this hour, and of the few who were, many were in a worse state than he was. It wasn’t unusual for omegas to be bleeding and broken in the early hours of the morning on the streets of Brooklyn. New York was a bad city to grow up in as an omega; alphas were brought up arrogant and proud, betas were raised to keep their noses out of other people’s business. Most omegas were raised to be submissive to a fault, often as little more than breeding stock.

Steve was raised to be the person he wanted to be, and seeing people just like him beaten, abused, _raped_ , on the streets like animals made him angry enough to risk broken ribs and missing teeth. It drove Bucky mad – it had driven his poor mother crazy before she passed away a couple of years ago.

But under her worry, under Bucky’s nagging, Steve had always seen their pride. That was what kept him going. Knowing that even though it hurt, even though the price was high, he was doing the right thing, doing what he believed in.

Standing up for others.

As he staggered to his apartment, retrieving the key from under the doormat so as not to wake Bucky, the Sun began to rise over the New York skyline.

*

“You sure you want to enlist, son?” The officer stared down at him doubtfully, and Steve felt his cheeks heat up. This time, surely. Sixth time lucky…

“I want to serve my country.” He said, chin held high. 

The officer nodded, still not looking convinced, and noted something down before pointing to a cubicle behind him. An older man looked over interestedly, and followed. 

“You want to kill Nazis?” He asked, and Steve turned to see him, trying not to show his surprise.

“I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t like bullies; I don’t care where they’re from.” Steve replied.

The old man smiled curiously. “You know that omegas can’t join the army?”

Steve gritted his teeth. “It’s an unfair rule. If an omega can fight, why shouldn’t they?” It wasn’t a direct confession, but he knew he was in understanding company. The scar on the older man’s throat was fading, but omegas knew the signs on each other. Steve might not have any visible scars (yet), but there were enough left on his heart already.

The man looked at him appraisingly. “That shouldn’t matter anymore. From now on, you’re an alpha if anyone asks.”

Steve felt his eyes widen. “What?”

“Five tries in five different cities. I can offer you a chance.” The man smiled.

His heart lifted with the beginnings of hope. “Really?”

“There’s an experiment. I need your help. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in? You would be able to stop bullies.”

Steve stood up straight. “Yes, sir.” There was no hesitation in his mind. Something made him trust this man in spite of the German accent which the country was being indoctrinated to hate. 

The man pulled a stamp out of his pocket, and retrieved Steve’s file from the officer at the front. The red _1A_ burned against Steve’s retinas.

“You fly out on Monday.” The man smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye as he turned away.

Steve was about to thank him, before he remembered. 

“Wait, sir! What am I supposed to do about…”

The man looked at him curiously, and he blushed. “I mean, my… starts on Wednesday.”

“I can get you suppressants. The rest, you’ll have to act.” If Steve saw something vaguely regretful pass over the man’s face, he dismissed it as his imagination.

Steve nodded, determined. This was going to work. 

*

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Peggy looked at him, concerned as they left the car. He liked Peggy – she was honest and strong. If she wasn’t a beta, she would have been the sort of alpha he wouldn’t have minded if she had approached him. (Never the other way around; omegas were forbidden from initiating romantic contact with an unbonded alpha.)

He nodded determinedly. This wasn’t something he could refuse. 

They were greeted by Erskine, a proud smile on his face when he looked at Steve. He was beginning to feel like the grandfather that Steve had never had. He led them down a corridor to a large room. Around the outside, an observation deck looked down onto a contraption of some kind. 

Steve tried not to look too hard. 

“This is Howard Stark.” He said, and Steve turned with a vacant smile.

His eyes locked with the other man, and he froze as something in the world seemed to shift. Nothing changed – except everything. 

The man was extremely good looking, but that wasn’t what stopped him. Something about the smell – rain in a forest, old leather, charcoal on clean cartridge paper – made his throat go dry. Thankfully the suppressants would repress his scent, but he still couldn't stop checking over his shoulder; the room was packed with alphas. 

He forced himself to meet the handshake of the man. “A pleasure. I hear you’re the one who’s frying me like an egg.” He finally managed, skin tingling at the contact, remembering to think like an alpha. He hoped he hadn’t given anything away.

Howard was looking at him curiously, fascination and something _else_ , something which made Steve’s blood race, visible on his face. But it vanished all too soon. “Don’t worry, we might knock out the city’s power, but we’ll make a soldier out of you.”

He turned back to his consoles without another glance, and Steve couldn’t suppress his disappointment. Had he imagined all of that? Erskine clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“That we will, Steve.”

He helped Steve onto the platform in the middle of the room, and looked him in the eye, his voice quiet and serious as their surroundings faded away.

“You must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.” The look he gave Steve was so full of trust, he couldn’t help but nod. 

“I’ll try my best.”

Erskine nodded once, and smiled: “I know you will,” and moved back. Steve tried not to look around; the room was full of people staring at him. But his gaze locked on to the one person who wasn’t: Howard’s eyes were fixed on a light-up display.

The injections started, and the pain was bearable as long as he didn't look; it was no worse than having his ribs broken, or being punched in the nose five times. Just different.

But the serum felt like ice in his veins, unnatural and worming under his skin; he gritted his teeth. He hoped this wouldn't last too long.

He felt the platform he was lying on begin to move until he was almost vertical, and the walls of the capsule began to move inwards. 

He focused on his breathing; he’d never been claustrophobic, that was Bucky’s thing, but it was still intimidating as the two pieces of metal sealed him away.

“How are you doing, Steve?” He heard faintly from outside, and he saw Erskine’s face outside the small window.

“Is it too late to go to the bathroom?” He questioned, trying not to let his voice quiver. Faint laughter greeted him.

“Beginning vita-ray saturation.” He heard Howard, and the voice sent a shiver down his spine. To be fair, it was probably just the serum. Nothing to worry about there.

His skin began to prickle as light grew in the capsule. This was fine, he could deal with this. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d thought it would be.

“Ten per cent.”

Crap. 

It went from vague discomfort to pain pretty damn fast, and he had to close his eyes. Erskine may have promised regenerative healing, but he had no desire to burn his retinas away in the first place.

“Twenty per cent.”

There was an ache, deep in his bones now, and his skin felt like a giant was pulling at it like putty. 

“Thirty per cent.” 

He tried not to think about the numbers, because this was only going to get worse before it got better. But he could _feel_ his body shifting and changing, and holy hell, it _hurt_.

“Forty per cent.” The voice had the seeds of uncertainty, and if Steve had been anyone else he would have been worried. He had other concerns at that moment.

His bones stretched, pulling everything else with them. His weak heart was pulsing stronger than it ever had – he could feel his pulse in his ears through the burning pain everywhere else and was amazed it hadn't already given up on him.

“Fifty.”

The voice helped to ground him, but the light was too bright now; there was no difference between having them open and closed. He could feel his senses sharpening, and it just made everything worse. He caught the faint smell of burning, his ears picked up sounds he’d missed before. The extra information bombarded his brain. And _there_ , almost hidden, he could sense it; the familiar scent of _protect, protect, protect_ of an alpha protecting it’s pack. He was used to it – every time he went home to Bucky with the smallest scratch, who wasn’t even bonded to him - but it scared him now. He hated sensing an alpha without seeing them. How was he supposed to protect himself?

Something happened outside – it almost sounded like an explosion, followed by shouts. Above everything else, he heard Erskine, loud and worried. 

“Turn it off!”

“NO!” He shouted without thinking. “No, I can do this.” Could he? He had to. Falling at the first hurdle wasn’t an option, just like it had _never_ been an option. Besides, there was a _very_ good-looking engineer he wanted to get to know a bit better on the other side of all this.

There was a noise of affirmation – maybe it was words, Steve couldn’t really focus right now.

“Seventy!” 

Wonderful, they’d skipped sixty. Steve didn’t really care anymore – the pain was his only reality, the light burning away who he was to replace him with someone else. The alpha scent was only getting stronger, and it was driving him mad. He didn’t want to be targeted by some threatened alpha just because they couldn’t control themselves.

Something deep in his core snapped, and pain was all he knew for the longest second. Maybe he screamed, but suddenly it stopped. The light died away, leaving flashing dots in his vision. Although they quickly vanished too.

The capsule broke away from him, and cold air hit his skin. He took in a huge breath, amazed when his lungs didn’t rebel and actually let him hold the air. He could feel his heartbeat, strong and sure for the first time in twenty one years. Was this how everyone else felt when they breathed? Like they might be able to keep living twenty years down the line?

“Steve!” Erskine was the first to his side. Peggy appeared behind him almost immediately. 

He took a groggy step away from the machinery and almost fell, catching himself at the last minute.

His legs were in a different place. Or his head was, or something – did the ground used to be that far away?

“How do you feel?” He focused on Peggy’s voice; looking at her, he laughed. She was _not_ staring at his face.

“Taller.” He managed in amazement. He looked down – did he have something on his chest?

Yep. Actual muscles. Well, gosh. No wonder Peggy was staring, he was just as surprised himself. 

He looked around; Erskine was looking at him in amazement, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d actually managed. Peggy was… _still_ looking at his chest. And Howard…

Howard was still looking at his displays, an anguished expression visible on his profile.

He was just about to speak, when an explosion tore through the room.

He threw himself to the ground, dragging Peggy down with him.

“Stop him!” Erskine’s shout echoed as Steve felt his hearing return.

Two gunshots cracked through the air. He looked around wildly; a man in the observation deck was running for the door.

Next to him, a soft groan caught his attention and he saw Erskine sink to the ground, blood spreading from two wounds to his chest.

“No.” He whispered, moving to his side. But the scientist was already gone, his eyes glazed. Howard had moved as well, and he looked up. Their eyes met for a second, resolve passing between them, something stronger than iron. A single thought, a single heartbeat.

He bowed his head for a second, before running for the door.

That bastard wouldn’t get away.

*

Steve stared out at the empty auditorium, sat on the edge of the stage. The crowd had all left; they didn’t care that he was still here. That this was all he had. Red, velvet seats, words taped to the back of his shield, pretending to punch ‘Hitler’ in the face again and again and again.

They just wanted a glimpse of the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan. Nobody cared about Steve Rogers under the red, white and blue anymore. 

This was all he got to do now. Travelling across America in his blue tights with his crappy metal shield. He was useless without Erskine, the one person who’d seen potential in him. He was a glorified showgirl.

At least the girls still had the chance to find their mates. Most of them were omegas too, a deliberate decision to whip the crowds up. Steve hated it, he hated the whole idea, the way they were being exploited for their gender. That the show organisers would endanger them for the sake of getting alphas over-excited and patriotic.

At least they thought he was an alpha as well. Something about the serum – it had destroyed his heat cycle. He hadn’t scented since before the procedure, and in some ways it was a relief. He could function for the whole month instead of needing a week locked away. Heats had always been something of a nightmare; combined with all of his previous health problems, he'd ended up in hospital more than once as a result.

And it meant he wasn’t bothered by anyone. Nobody _wanted_ to bother him anymore.

Another excuse for people to pretend he didn’t exist.

He’d never _liked_ being an omega, but now; what the hell even was he now? He was defective. He’d lost an important part of his identity. He didn’t look like himself anymore, he didn’t act like an omega (which he still technically was – he’d checked). What did he still have that made him, him? Who even was Steve Rogers?

He’d wanted to fight for his country, and the serum had been his only option to get that. But this… this wasn’t what he’d dreamed of on cold, lonely nights in Brooklyn.

Footsteps echoed across the stage behind him, and he looked up. A nervous looking boy stared back at him.

“Captain?”

Steve almost laughed. He sure as hell weren’t no captain. But he nodded anyway.

“There’s a call waiting for you.” The boy was almost twitching in agitation.

He couldn’t quite keep the interest out of his voice. “Who is it?”

The boy shook his head. “Someone called Howard?”

Steve felt something warm growing in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t seen Howard Stark since the day of the procedure, and to be honest, he wasn’t surprised. The man had seemed much more interested in his machines than he had in Steve, in the success of his own part in it than in Steve’s transformation.

But Steve followed the boy eagerly. Even if it turned out to be nothing, he _never_ got calls anymore.

He entered a warm office, and patted the boy’s shoulder as he left. There was nobody else in the office.

“Hello?” He asked the receiver.

“Steve! How’s it been going?” The voice hadn’t changed from the way he remembered. It sent a shiver down his spine in a way he was losing familiarity with.

“Howard? Not too bad. Why are you calling?” He couldn’t restrain his curiosity. Why would Howard Stark, renowned genius, be calling a dancing monkey in blue tights?

“I just wondered how the super soldier was coping. It sounds like you’ve been making waves on the show circuit.” The voice was faintly teasing; Steve almost smiled.

“If I can inspire someone else to go fight, then I’ve done my job.” He tried to sound positive.

“If that _was_ your job, I’d agree with you. Steve, I specialise in weapons. Trust me, you should be doing more. Abe wanted more for you, than _this_.” The tone turned caustic; Steve swallowed. The venom in Howard’s voice wasn’t aimed at him, but it still unnerved him, the alpha rage clashing with the instinctive omega distress. He wanted to serve, to do all he could. But it wasn’t an option. (Was it?)

“If I could, I would.” His voice is too quiet when he finally replied, and Howard groaned on the other end of the line in frustration.

“You aren’t very argumentative for an alpha.”

When Steve didn’t know how to respond, he must have worked it out.

“You aren’t an alpha.” It wasn’t a question, so Steve didn’t answer.

“You need to be doing more. You _are_ so much more. I’ll see what I can do.” He said determinedly, and Steve felt his spirits lift, not just at the fact that Howard had skated over the omega issue. He almost made him sound like a person.

“You don’t have to, Howard-“

“What’s the point of having a gun if you fight with a knife?” He said, and Steve hummed in happiness.

“I’ll see you in Europe, Cap.” The line cut off, and he replaced the receiver with a smile.

God, he couldn’t wait to see Howard.

*

“Who ordered the man in tights?” The colonel barked upon seeing Steve. That wasn’t really fair, he wasn’t even wearing tights anymore.

“Deployed by order of the U.S. military, sir.” He saluted, back ramrod straight.

The colonel looked him up and down with disdain. “What do you know about fighting, son?”

Steve didn’t meet his eyes, he didn’t want to anger him. “I’ve undergone standard army training, sir.” He figured mentioning the super soldier serum would make him sound like a jerk. It wasn't like he wouldn't know.

The colonel was about to respond, but Howard marched in with Peggy, always just on time, and Steve felt a grin break over his face upon seeing his friends.

“Colonel! I see you’ve met the Captain.” Howard grinned at Steve, Peggy sneaking him a small smile as well.

The colonel spluttered. “Cap-captain? He doesn’t hold that rank.”

Howard was still grinning. “No, but he’s more than qualified. He’s punched Hitler over two hundred times, you know.”

“Is this a joke?” He glared angrily at Howard. Steve forced himself to stay still; the small part of his brain which still thought like an omega was urging him to run from the clashing alphas. If there was one thing he was good at though, it was sticking out a fight.

“Not at all. Here’s the order. I thought I’d hand deliver it, just for you.” Howard handed him a letter in triumph. The colonel scanned the words, disgust obvious on his face.

He scrunched the letter up in his hands. “Fine. Fine.” He stared at Steve. He couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that the colonel had to look up to him now.

“If one man dies within twenty feet of you, I’ll have you discharged myself.” He stormed out of the tent, leaving the three of them alone.

“Steve, welcome to Europe! Not it’s finest moment, mind you. I’ll have to show you some of the better parts when this is done.” Howard smiled at him, and something warm and pleasant uncurled in his stomach, replacing the ominous feeling the colonel’s words had left.

“Howard. Peggy.” He smiled at both of them contentedly. He was finally where he wanted to be. 

Peggy nodded. “Steve, good to see you. I’ve got things to sort out, I trust you two will be ok?” She didn’t wait for an answer, marching out.

Howard whistled once she was gone. “What a woman. I rue the day someone tries to force her into a bond.”

Steve laughed self-deprecatingly. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same.” He liked Howard, he really did; but he was well aware that alphas picked their mates – it didn’t work the other way around. If he’d really wanted Peggy, he would have taken her by now. That’s just how it was.

But Howard looked at him shocked. “I’d never force _anyone_ into a bond.” He said, too shocked to be angry.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Come on, Howard. I won’t tell. Any alpha would.”

Howard scratched the back of his head with a nervous laugh. “Not me, cap. People keep asking why I haven’t mated yet. I haven’t got the time – or the guts of most alphas. I’m not forcing anyone into anything, and most omegas aren’t ready for free will.” He smiled ruefully. “They don’t want to tie themselves to someone who won’t even command them to get them a drink in a bar and who spends eighty per cent of the time holed up in a lab.”

Steve stared at the engineer in surprise, something happy and golden bubbling in his chest. He was a much better person than he gave himself credit for.

Howard shook his head, smile back in place. “Anyway, you know why I haven’t got a mate. What about you?”

Steve stiffened. “What about me?” Howard knew about his gender but nobody else did, and the colonel already had enough reasons to hate him.

“Surely…” Howard trailed off when he saw Steve’s face. “No?”

He shook his head softly. “I don’t really… go into heat anymore. No scents, nothing.”

Howard’s face softened, something sympathetic he was trying to hide. Steve appreciated the effort. “The serum?”

He nodded, keeping his chin up. “It makes _this_ ,” he gestured around them, “a lot easier. I don’t have to take suppressants or lock myself away, or get picked on by the alphas.”

“But it’s not quite right.” Howard completed his thought for him.

Steve sighed. “I used to hate being an omega. I was so weak and small, and I got bullied. Problems with every part of me. I only had one friend, and he was an alpha, there was no way he could understand. But, I guess…” He looked away. “I guess I always expected to be able to have cubs. I always loved kids.” He smiled humourlessly. “Takes away any hard decisions, anyway.”

Howard put a hand on his shoulder, and Steve looked at him in shock. He looked equally surprised at himself, but didn’t move. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. Abe certainly wouldn’t have picked you if he’d known.” He looked so sure, but Steve fixed his jaw. A look of regret in an enlistment office back in the States suddenly made a lot of sense.

“I would have put myself forward anyway. All I’ve ever wanted is my own voice. He gave me one people actually hear.”

His jaw dropped, forgetting what he was saying; something in Howard’s eyes… he leaned in closer, to try and see.

“Steve, I don’t want you to freak, but your eyes…” Howard was staring straight back at him, amazement in the slack of his jaw.

“Are glowing.” He finished, transfixed by the glowing embers which had appeared in Howard’s eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Howard muttered, seeing something in Steve that he couldn’t. With a jolt, Steve realised how close their faces were. It took him another second to realise he really didn’t mind.

“I think I do,” he murmured, and closed the distance, bringing their lips together. A spark flared somewhere in his chest. They'd hardly known each other for two months, but something had clicked; he _knew_ Howard. Understood him on a level that he didn't even know existed. Maybe he was breaking the rules by doing this, but he wasn’t any omega, and Howard wasn’t just any alpha.

And how many people could honestly say they had found their soulmates?

Howard responded, deepening the kiss, bringing a hand to the back of Steve’s head, quickly taking control. It was like air in summer on his lips, sweet and vital, but Steve put a hand on his chest. They couldn’t be doing this here.

Howard growled, and Steve felt his knees go weak. He ignored his instincts though. “Not here, ok? Somewhere else.” He hated the way his voice was almost a pant at this point.

Howard rolled his eyes with a reluctant grin. “Fine. We’ll have to postpone this for now while your tent gets sorted.”

The words were loaded with intent, and Steve shivered under the intense gaze of the alpha. Their eyes lingered for another moment, Steve loving how _alive_ he felt for the first time since he’d gone into the capsule and the look in Howard’s luminous eyes.

About that...

“We’ll have to do something to hide the glow.” He broke the silence, and Howard nodded, back into scientist mode.

“I can probably get away with it, say I met a beautiful dame back in the States.” His lips twitched at Steve’s possessive whine. “But there’ll be too many questions for you.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “There were advances in contact lenses a couple of years ago, I’ll work something out. Stick with goggles for now.”

Steve grinned. “That won’t look suspicious at all.”

Howard just smirked as he walked out of the tent. “Goggles, or glowing eyes, Rogers. Your call.”

*

Steve smelt Howard long before he saw him. He was in his tent, organising his few possessions and getting ready to sleep when his throat forced out a submissive whine.

It had been a few weeks since they had kissed for the first time, and Steve couldn’t get enough of him. Whenever they had a moment, they snuck off and made out like horny teenagers. They’d been lucky not to get caught, but Steve wouldn’t trade the feeling in his stomach when Howard touched his skin for the _world_. His soulmate. When did he get so lucky?

The alpha was scenting like crazy; he must have been causing confusion across the whole camp. Apart from the blatant discrimination, there was a _sort-of_ logical reason for not having omegas in the military. Put together a group of testosterone-fuelled alphas and give them a reason to scent near each other – they’d tear each other apart. (That was the theory anyway; why omegas couldn’t just be given suppressants, nobody ever seemed to answer.)

The flap to his tent lifted and Howard’s gaze met his, a predatory smile on his lips and a desire, a _need_ in the set of his jaw. Steve whined quietly in response, happy to let his instincts take over for once. He’d been waiting, hoping that Howard would pay him a visit all evening.

The man continued to advance, growling playfully, before stopping, his nose twitching. He looked at Steve, his expression unreadable. “I thought you didn’t scent anymore?”

Steve frowned in confusion. “I don’t.”

Howard grinned. “It’s faint, but it’s definitely you.” He took another step forward. “Steve, you smell _delicious_.” The last word was lower, a purr, a promise. Steve felt his knees tremble as the alpha looked at him heatedly but for once, he had no desire to run. 

“You don’t smell too bad yourself.” He whispered faintly back, closing his eyes to try and control himself as the scent of ink and rain washed over him. He wasn’t allowed to start the coupling with an alpha. Omegas were taught to submit, as much as he hated it, and he couldn’t fight something so deeply ingrained.

He heard Howard’s footsteps continue to move behind him, circling him like prey, his senses crystal clear from the serum. There was a puff of air on the back of his neck as Howard laughed quietly.

“You smell like strawberries in summer, Steve. Sunshine in a meadow, wildflowers.” He took a deep breath, trying to inhale more of the scent which only he could smell. Steve loved that; that Howard was the only one who forced him to be anything. Even then, it would still have been his choice.

Fingers brushed gently against his neck, and the contact made him gasp, his head jerking back on instinct to bare his throat for marking.

He forced his chin down again – that would be _impossible_ to explain.

Howard’s growl of disapproval made him open his eyes, illuminating the man very faintly with a warm blue glow. He always took out his contact lenses at night; they were uncomfortable to sleep with. Now, it meant that their eyes were the only sources of light in the tent, blue and golden brown, sapphire and tiger’s eye in the night.

The tight control Howard usually held was gone, and it thrilled Steve. He so desperately wanted to cave to the dominant alpha, but…

“Howard, we can’t. Someone will see. They’ll know.” His voice was too close to a whine again.

“What if I don’t care?” He growled back, and Steve felt his skin prickle. His head jerked back once more, and he didn’t try and fight it this time. He saw Howard’s eyes darken with lust, almost black but still glowing, as he leant in to Steve’s pulse point, breathing in deeply for a second before biting down.

Steve mewled, immediately covering his mouth with his hand as the canines sunk into his throat. The initial bite of pain quickly faded, relief and lust flooding his bloodstream as his legs gave way. Howard caught him before he fell, pushing him towards the sleeping bag in the corner, head still to his throat.

Steve felt Howard’s cock hardening beneath his trousers, and he felt the opening between his legs beginning to slicken in response. This wasn’t still supposed to be able to happen for him, he’d thought he was sterile…

He refocused as Howard began to pull at the buttons of his army shirt, and he went to help only to have his hands batted away. A growl warned him to stay still, and he was happy to comply, moving his hands to Howard’s hair instead, moving his mouth from his throat to his lips.

Howard finally managed to undo all the buttons, and pulled at the fabric. Cold air met Steve’s sweaty skin and he groaned, trying to bring Howard closer, bask in his fiery warmth.

He felt hands fumbling at his trousers soon after, and another whine escaped. He was taking too long. He moved his fingers to Howard’s own trousers, managing the button quickly and pulling them down to reveal his erect cock. His own trousers disappeared soon after, and the contact between them made him groan in delight.

Howard pushed him down onto the sleeping bag and he went without a complaint, gazing up at the shorter man with his eyes half-closed, the smoky lust visible in the alpha’s eyes as he looked down at Steve before following, arms braced on each side of Steve’s head.

He stared up into Howard’s eyes; he felt wild and flighty, caged like an animal beneath him. He’d never been so aroused. He felt the slick beginning to drip from his ass, and he pushed his hips up against Howard’s desperately. He’d never been so needy, not even when he’d got his first heat in his early teens. He wanted, _needed_ to feel Howard inside him.

Howard smirked at his attempt. Kneeling over him, he gently caressed Steve’s hipbone with one hand before pushing it forcefully back to the ground. While Steve was physically stronger, he was weak now, a toy in Howard’s hands. He had to trust he wouldn’t break him.

The other hand moved lower, nudging his legs wider, and Steve gasped when he felt a finger gently trace over his hole, the skin swollen and tender.

Howard looked at him for permission, and Steve growled impatiently. Howard bit his lip, pupils blown, and pushed a finger inside.

He whined in delight at the feeling; many omegas had experience when they finally mated with their bonded alpha. Steve had experimented before – Bucky was always trying to get him a date, and sometimes with betas… but he'd never gone this far, and he was glad. This, at least, he could give Howard. This still was his to give.

One finger quickly wasn’t enough though, and he whined, trying to buck his hips under Howard’s strong, assured grip.

Howard smiled teasingly. “Eager, captain?” He whispered, his voice low and husky in the cold winter air. Steve wasn’t able to reply; there was still that strange, wonderful intrusion inside him, and he was desperate for more. “We both know who’s in charge though, don’t we?” He continued, and pulled the finger out. He pressed it against Steve’s lips, and he opened his mouth without being asked, sucking on the digit desperately as he tasted himself, never breaking eye contact with his mate.

Howard chuckled. “Good boy.” He narrowed his eyes, which were practically black, the irises almost vanished with how wide his pupils had dilated. “You deserve a reward.”

He took his hand away from Steve’s mouth, moving it back to his lower entrance. Slowly, keeping an eye on Steve’s face to check for any sign of pain, he inserted a second finger with the first, allowing Steve to adjust before beginning to scissor them inside him.

The corners of Steve’s vision blurred at the sensation, feeling his insides stretch with the motions of Howard’s hand, white hot spikes of pain mixed with pleasure dancing across his senses. “Howard, god…” He moaned, eyes slipping closed in delight.

“That’s sweet of you, Steve, but I wouldn’t put myself up there yet.” He whispered back with a wicked grin, never ceasing his movements. Steve could die happy with the sight, his fingers bunching the fabric beneath them, trying to find something to ground himself.

He pushed in a third finger, cutting off any coherent thoughts in his head as Steve felt his hole stretch. He felt a burn in his muscles, but it had never felt so good.

He moaned as Howard withdrew all three fingers, feeling empty – he wanted to feel full again, he wanted _Howard_.

His alpha looked down at him, lips parted slightly. “Fuck, Steve, you’re so beautiful. I want you.”

Steve stared at him, desperate. He wondered how he looked right now. “I want you too.” He panted, begging with his eyes. The cold was beginning to set in, he needed that warmth back, right between his legs…

Howard’s face changed, mischief and desire and devilish charm all rolled into one. “Beg me. Beg me to fuck you, Captain America.”

“P-please, Howard,” He managed, loving the way Howard said the name. It wasn’t mocking - the opposite; he said it reverently, like Steve was something to be treasured, someone special. He’d do anything the alpha told him right now. Who cared what he was supposed to be? This was who he was, and what he wanted. “Please, fuck me.”

Howard grinned, teeth showing, canines glinting in the light of Steve’s eyes. He didn’t say anything else, taking a second to line his cock up with Steve’s opening, before – 

Lights danced across his vision as Howard pushed inside him firmly, finally filling him, hands on his hips to hold him still. He writhed in pleasure beneath him, muscles contracting in ecstasy at the sudden pressure at the base of his stomach. There was nothing separating them; words were transcended as they moved together.

Howard pulled out again, almost all the way, and Steve whined in dismay at the emptiness before he plunged back in, deeper than before.

Neither of them lasted very long before Steve felt the base of Howard’s cock expanding, the knot trapping them together as he came deep inside him. Howard collapsed onto his chest, shirt still on, the fabric creating a beautiful friction between them.

Steve linked his arms behind Howard’s back, holding him closer. He couldn’t let this slip away too.

“Jesus, Steve, your arms…” The alpha slurred happily, exhausted. Neither of them moved – not because they couldn’t, although that was true – but simply because they didn’t want to, content in the other’s presence and closeness.

As the blood in Howard’s cock flowed away, he moved slightly so they could lie more comfortably; a subtle shift. Howard was suddenly on the outside, his arms around Steve instead as they both fell asleep, Howard whispering to him as their minds drifted away.

“You’re mine.”

Lying on the ground in the middle of a war, Steve had never felt so protected. He was Howard's. And Howard was his.

*

“…although, HYDRA isn’t going to attack you with a pocket knife.” Steve was only half listening to his mate in the bunker, eyes drawn across the table. 

A circular, silver shield lay unattended and gleaming, concentric circles extending from the edge to the centre. It was unassuming and ignored at the edge of the room. He couldn’t help empathising.

“What about this one?” He asked, fingers gripping the edge as he slid it onto his arm like he’d been born with it. The shield seemed to vibrate under his fingers, resonating in his mind, and although the metal was heavy, it balanced perfectly.

Howard didn’t respond, and Steve looked up to see his mouth slightly parted, eyes dark.

“Howard?” He asked with a frown. The alpha shook his head and focused, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Sorry, that one’s vibranium. Strongest metal known to man. It’s just a prototype…” He smiled. 

Steve cocked his head to the side, a curious smile playing over his face. “What are you grinning at?”

“I just… it suits you. With your jawline, and those arms. Have I mentioned your arms before?”

Steve chuckled. “Maybe once or twice.” Howard was never quiet about what he loved about Steve whenever they managed to find time to themselves.

“But I was just thinking about how the silver works with your eyes.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You sure you aren’t working for a ladies’ magazine?”

“No, you prune. I can’t stop thinking about them. Your eyes are that layer of sunlight a couple of meters under the surface of the water. Don’t mock me, Rogers. Let an old man get sentimental.” Howard wagged his finger, allowing some of the alpha command into his voice teasingly. Steve suppressed the urge to whine, aroused by the words. Howard was surprisingly poetic sometimes. He forced his breathing to relax when he saw Peggy walking towards them, straightening his back.

“Hey, Peggy! What do you think?” He asked enthusiastically, posing with the shield.

She took one look at him, and her odd smile dropped straight away. She pulled her gun and aimed. Steve barely had time to raise the shield before he heard the pinging of the bullets bouncing away.

He lowered the shield warily when the gunfire stopped. Looking down, he was pleasantly surprised. Not even a scratch. At least the shield could protect him from possibly psychotic English betas.

“I think it works.” She deadpanned before putting the gun down. She moved to Howard and slapped his arm.

“How could you not tell me!” She glared at him before switching her gaze to Steve. “And you!” He cowered slightly, but Howard replied first.

“Tell you what?” He asked. The two of them had quickly made a decision not to tell Peggy. It wasn’t to be secretive, but the more people who knew, the bigger the risk became.

“That you two were together?” She questioned accusingly, looking back to Steve.

He forced a laugh. “Me and Howard? Peggy-“

She pointed straight at him. “One of your eyes is glowing. I guess you’ve been using contact lenses?” Steve just gawped.

“That doesn’t me and Steve are together, Peggy. He probably met some nice omega girl in camp.”

“You’ve been ridiculously happy recently. And you stink like an alpha.”

“So? I’m not allowed to be happy? And unless you hadn’t noticed, I _am_ an al-.”

Peggy put her hands on her hips and gave Howard a look. “I just heard you two talking about, what was it? How much you love Steve’s arms? Or his eyes?”

Howard froze, his mouth hanging open. Steve would have found it funny if it was for any other reason.

“What I _can’t_ figure out, is which one of you is lying about your gender. Neither of you has a bonding mark, so either you haven’t bonded properly yet, or…” She trailed off, turning to Steve. Her eyes were wide. He knew with a sinking sensation, she’d remembered his healing rate. The mark had faded to a faint bruise within hours of it being made. It was a relief; Steve could still feel it, even if he couldn’t see it, a vague tingling against his adam’s apple when he swallowed. (And Howard had loved it; he could mark Steve over and over, every night with no consequences. Steve wasn't complaining.)

“Steve?” She whispered. He looked at Howard, questioning. He was the alpha, after all. It was his call. Steve hated a little bit that nature still wouldn’t let him be himself. (Maybe he didn’t mind quite so much with Howard.)

He nodded slightly, and Peggy gasped.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She vowed, before pulling him into a quick, fierce hug.

It wasn’t until after she’d left, that Howard stepped toward him again.

“I forgot you were supposed to be hiding your eyes.” He admitted. “I got so caught up in how gorgeous they are…”

Steve smiled at him, putting down the vibranium and immediately missing the weight. “I just can’t believe I found a soulmate. I thought they were a myth.”

Howard winked. “I’d make anyone want to spend an eternity with me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Stark,” He laughed, “I’m known for picking fights I shouldn’t win.”

Howard moved closer, pulling Steve’s face closer to his own. Breathing on the healed skin on his neck, he whispered back, “You won this fight a long time ago.”

He smiled and inhaled, picking up the faintest hints of a familiar smell. His eyes widened in realisation as a memory from years before suddenly made sense. It had been bothering him for weeks. “You were the one scenting when I was given the serum.”

Howard blushed (an alpha, blushing! Steve should have taken a picture.) and nodded. “The vita-rays were going mad, and there was something about this kid from Brooklyn. You shoulda seen the look in his eyes. Like he was going to shout and fight until the whole world was ready to agree.” Howard smiled up at him, proud and defensive. “The look’s still there, you know. I think it’s part of the reason I fell in love.”

Steve winked back. “God knows why _I_ fell in love.”

Howard laughed. “Obviously my dashing good looks.”

“There’s always that,” Steve agreed with a smile. He couldn’t place one particular thing that he fell in love with.

Howard Stark just made him want to be a better man.

*

The semi-healed incision above his ear tingled painfully as he ran through the corridor of the HYDRA base. He had to be here somewhere…

 _Steve, stay calm. You need to stay calm._ Howard’s voice thrummed soothingly in the base of his skull. He’d suggested the telepathic chip – just a way of focusing the soulbond between them, he’d said – and Steve had jumped straight on board. Located just above his ear, it had been a couple of days now since he’d put it in and it was working fine – better than fine. He’d never felt so connected and _aware_. It was great on missions most of the time as well; as long as Howard didn’t panic or worry, Steve had a resident genius in his head for help with problems. Howard was with him all the time now. There were a couple of kinks to work out, but so far, it was a vast improvement.

Howard was nowhere close to happy at that moment; when Steve had announced his plan to storm a HYDRA base single-handed when the colonel had given up on the soldiers, his mate had almost forbidden it. Even now, knowing exactly where Steve was and what was happening, he was worrying like crazy.

He didn’t reply, focusing on memorising the twisting passages instead. He’d need to remember the way out. Somewhere in this isolated base, Bucky was locked away. He had to be. Steve wouldn’t even consider the alternative.

With a crash, he kicked down another door. Twenty malnourished heads turned to look at him, desperate fire still burning in their eyes. Telling them to get their asses out, he left them, carrying on his search. It wasn’t like he had a whole lot of backup. 

_Any sign?_

_**Not yet,**_ he thought, _**another room full of prisoners. God knows how many more.**_

Howard didn’t know Bucky, but he knew what he meant to Steve. How he’d saved his butt more times than he could count, how he’d patched up more broken bones than the teeth in Steve’s mouth. He understood that Steve couldn’t just leave him if there was even the slightest chance he was still alive. He understood everything; they were soulmates, after all.

There was only one door left in the corridor. Steve felt his pulse quicken as he moved towards it, anxiety crawling across his skin. He had a bad feeling about this.

He put his shoulder to the door, feeling it move more with each impact until it finally gave way.

Steve staggered into the room. It was mostly empty, cupboards lining the walls, nasty stains on the floor under his boots, and on the filthy operating table in the centre – 

“Bucky!” He ran to his friend, ripping the restraints away. “I thought you were dead!” He reprimanded, hoping if he kept talking, he would stay with him. He helped Bucky to his feet, not looking twice at the tools lying on a bloody tray nearby.

He got a bleary gaze in return. “I thought you were smaller.”

 _ **Got him.**_ He thought with a grin, and felt Howard’s happiness coming back through the link.

 _Thank god._ From anyone else, Steve would have suspected sarcasm.

“Come on, buddy, let’s get you out of here.” He smiled at Bucky, still relieved beyond words that he was _alive_ , here and breathing. Steve dragged one of his arms over his shoulders to support him, practically dragging him. He was far too light. 

“Why are your eyes glowing, Stevie?” Bucky murmured from his side, and Steve frowned as they ran. He had definitely put the contacts in.

“What do you mean, Buck?” He asked, playing dumb and hoping he was too tired to see through him.

“They’re all… lighter. It’s weird.” Bucky said, voice strained with exhaustion. God knows what the bastards had done to him in there. But he still knew Steve too well; the fact he’d noticed the contacts was incredible. Bucky was still Bucky. That was enough for now.

_There’s a chopper coming to the roof to pick you up, don’t you dare die on the way there._

Steve would have found it funny if he couldn’t feel the intense worry of his mate.

_**Have a bit more faith, Howard. I’m the star-spangled man with a plan, remember?** _

The actual details were a bit further from his mind, but getting out was a plan, right?

Gunfire ahead made him pause for a second, but then he remembered. The other prisoners. He laughed loudly, Bucky staring at him for a moment before joining in. 

Maybe he was finally inspiring some people. Leading, like he’d always dreamed of. Finally giving the name of Captain America some meaning.

In a building full of death and dying, he’d never felt so alive.

*

Peggy walked towards the two of them in a smoky bar, a gorgeous red dress clinging to her figure in all the right places.

Bucky sat up straight next to him, a smile pulling at his lips. The usual alpha characteristics were missing from his friend – had been since he’d come back from his prison in the Alps, which was a pretty big worry – but he was only human. And even Steve would admit Peggy was beautiful.

In another life, maybe… but there would still be Howard. He smiled at the thought. Howard and him were meant to be.

She passed straight past them though, smiling elusively at Steve as she walked to a handsome man in the corner.

Bucky sighed, sinking back into his seat. “This is a nightmare. Nobody wants me anymore.”

Steve looked at his friend in concern. “I want you, Buck.”

Bucky looked at him, laughter swimming in his eyes. “Not like that, punk. I always wanted a mate, but I never found the right one. It doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen now.”

Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder. “There’s someone for everyone, you jerk. Even you.” He teased.

They both laughed, but Bucky sighed again. “How the hell did you get to be so sure? You used to ditch me on double dates to try and enlist.”

Steve was about to respond, but his eyes got stuck at the door. Howard had just entered, a curious look on his handsome face as he searched the room for something (or someone, his mind supplied, reading the intention across the chip, clear as a Brooklyn spring morning), quickly replaced with laughter as he greeted a friend. He could feel the contentment of the other man, and that was enough. They were both happy, and they knew the other was as well.

Bucky followed his gaze, and choked on his drink. “No shit, Steve. How’d you pull that?”

Steve dragged his eyes away, back to his best friend. He was still far too skinny; since his rescue, he hadn’t put the weight back on. The shadows still lingered under his eyes, and in his dreams, Steve suspected.

“Things always work out. You gotta keep the faith, Bucky.” He said with a confident smile.

*

“Steve.” The voice was a warning. He chose to ignore it.

Zola’s leering face crunched beneath his fist, blood spurting from the bastard’s nose.

“Steve!” Finally he turned away, glaring at Howard.

“What.” His voice was colder than he could ever remember, colder than the ice and snow Bucky had just fallen to-

No. This wasn’t _fair_. How much had he sacrificed to be standing here? His identity, his gender, his home, and now the last thing he’d always had. And Howard had the nerve to try and stop him?

He was going to kill the bastard. He killed Bucky. Blood for blood. This wouldn’t bring him back, but it would sure as _hell_ , feel better than letting him live.

 _You need to calm down._ The voice echoed in his head, a warning in front of the officers outside the cell.

_**Don’t you dare. Don’t you even dare try and stop me right now.** _

He knew that his head was a tornado of horrible thoughts right now, and it felt even worse that Howard would be on the edge of all that, having to share it too. But he didn’t get it – how could he?

Alphas never struggled for anything. They could pick their careers, their mates. They got to pick their own lives. Howard would have grown up in a caring household, with supportive, proud parents, with everything he could ever want. Steve had grown up with _nothing_. He'd grown up knowing one day, that no matter how hard he hit, how long he stood, he'd be mated and domesticated. He wouldn't have been able to join the army, wouldn't have been entitled to equal pay even if he found a respectable job, and would need protecting just to walk down the street. As an omega, the world had been damn sure to teach him that he didn't really have anything.

But even when he had nothing, he had Bucky. And now when he had everything, he’d lost his one constant. He was whirling away in a hurricane, his anchor destroyed. And if he was going down, Zola was sure as hell going with him.

He blocked the telepathic chip; Howard wasn’t going to stop him. He’d learnt how to do it eventually – his alpha constantly worrying had become a bit of a distraction on missions, and his instinctive protectiveness was too much to cope with. It was nice to have someone to talk to all the time, nicer still that it was his soulmate, but sometimes he needed to remember he had his own head. And right now, he was occupied with only one thought.

He turned back to Zola, punching the door controls. It slid shut behind him, locking into place. The nervous twitch in the scientist’s hands almost made him smile. He paced closer, enjoying the way he tried to get away, never mind the fact he was tied to a chair. He allowed a menacing smile to win, exposing his teeth. He may not be an alpha, but he sure knew how to act like one.

“Any last words?” Steve growled as Zola trembled, the beginnings of a whine starting in his pathetic throat. Any other day, Steve might have felt sympathy for the other omega.

“Steve, _stop_.” The words hissed through the intercom, and every muscle in his body turned against him, locking into place. The alpha command was far too strong for him to ignore, and his instincts betrayed him.

Zola looked up at him from his chair, understanding growing and fear quickly vanishing as he saw Steve’s furious expression, and began to laugh.

 _“Leave the room._ ” Howard’s voice was regretful but strong. Steve felt his legs move without his permission, his hand raising to open the door.

“See you later, little dog!” Zola taunted after him, choking on his laughter, and Steve fought the command with everything he could. He’d never hated someone so much.

The door slid open, and he marched out on someone else’s accord. His muscles quickly came back under his control, and he longed to rush back inside, break Arnim Zola’s neck before he could kill anyone else, but he knew he’d be stopped. And humiliated. Again.

He didn’t look at Howard as he walked away.

“Steve, wait!” The voice echoed down the corridor.

He stopped but didn’t turn. “Is that another command?” He asked, voice low and dead. He’d never thought it would come to this.

“No, of course not. I had to, Steve. That's not who you are-" Howard got closer. Steve kept blocking the chip. Like hell was he going to let him apologise.

“Do you know what I told him?” Steve asked quietly. He knew there were still other officers around. They had to be wondering what on Earth was going on.

Howard didn’t respond, knowing that any words would be the wrong ones. Even after this, he still knew Steve inside out. (So why didn’t he know not to force you? A voice screamed in the back of his mind. He tried to ignore it.)

“I told him that things always work out. That he had to keep the faith. And he did. For whatever reason, the stupid jerk kept his faith in me. And now he’s gone. That bastard in the other room is only half the reason that Bucky is dead.” Steve didn't let himself stumble over 'dead'; he'd lost too much already.

“Steve, it’s not your f-“

Steve raised a hand, still not looking at his alpha. He was too angry with the world and especially himself, it was too soon after Bucky for him to be able to listen.

“Yes. It is. And the only consolation I had, watching my best friend fall, was that I could remove one of the reasons for it. But you wouldn’t even let me have that. And if I go back to my room, and try to remove the other half of the problem, you’d stop me doing that too, wouldn’t you?”

Howard didn’t answer; Steve already knew his answer. Howard wouldn’t let him drift away, because he had no one else; Steve would be selfish to even try. He had so much more than others.

He walked away, and kept the doors to his quarters locked when Howard called later on, tears spattering and smudging the delicate pencil lines of Bucky's face in his sketchbook. He was betrayed, he was broken.

He couldn't face him so soon.

*

“Howard? Howard, I’m going to have to put the plane in the water.” He tried to keep his voice level. The plane controls weren’t responding. There was one course, and one course only.

Looking back on everything, hadn’t that always been the way? Maybe he’d always known that he’d end up like this. Maybe it wouldn't have been a plane; maybe there was a podium and a gun. Maybe there was nothing but some kid getting the shit kicked out of him in an alley and left to die. Steve had never been meant for an easy death.

He had always dreamed of fighting for his country. At least now, he’d take down HYDRA as well. There was something dreamlike in the quality of his sight. All the colours he saw were purer, more vibrant. Maybe knowing he’d never see another sunset made him see them as they truly were.

“Steve, just relax. We can find a way out of this. Let me get Peggy and the colonel.” Howard’s voice was clear over the radio. Steve could have listened to it for a lifetime, longer. He would have followed that voice for eternity. Now, he had only minutes. The chip had been damaged by the Tesseract, interfering with his thoughts as spasms of pain cut through his brain; he missed the presence he’d grown used to. He felt like half a person.

“You’re supposed to be the genius, Howard.” He chuckled. “I told you, I’m good at picking fights I don’t win.”

“Shouldn’t win.” He replied, voice quiet. “You said fights you shouldn’t win.”

Steve smiled sadly. Of course he’d remember better than Steve himself what he’d said. Looks like Steve was right this time though. He wasn’t going to win this one.

“I’m sorry, Howard.”

“Don’t you dare, Steve. You’ve got nothing to apologise for.” Howard’s voice was suddenly fierce, and Steve could almost see his face when he closed his eyes. Defiant to the last.

“I’m sorry that we spent the last few days fighting.” Steve tried again, but Howard still wasn’t having it.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. You should have… I don’t know. But there was no excuse for what I did.” Steve didn’t need an empathy chip to tell he meant it. He knew Howard didn’t need one to know he was forgiven.

“Do you remember what you said? When I first arrived in Europe?” He changed the subject. This was too painful.

Howard didn’t respond for a moment. Of course he remembered. “That it wasn’t one of the finer moments. That I’d show you some of the better parts.”

His voice was breaking, and Steve swallowed, before humming in assent. “When I get back,-”

“Steve, don’t.” Howard pleaded, but Steve continued. He needed to believe he’d see Howard again. Or he’d never be able to do this. He scratched at his right eyelid; the contact lens had broken. He thought he’d got all of the fragments out before they’d done any damage – he was probably being paranoid. His eye cast a faint light on the shadowed control panel, and he smiled wistfully. The light was so much stronger now than it had been in the colonel’s tent only a few years ago. A short time which should have been a lifetime.

He took the other one out. What the hell, if he was going to die, he wanted it to be as himself. It’s not like anyone else would see now.

“When I get back, and the war’s over, you can show me the better parts. Ok?”

He could hear Howard swallow down a choke. “Ok. Where do you want to go?”

Steve blinked furiously. He’d see Howard again. He had to. They were soulmates. The world was meant to be theirs. Hardly anyone found their soulmates.

It was meant to be forever.

The plane broke through into the cloud layer, and the world descended into a misty chaos.

“I’m thinking we can give Germany a miss.” He pulled the pocket watch from his top pocket and clicked it open on the dashboard. His own face smiled back at him, Peggy and Bucky on one side, Howard on the other with an arm around his neck. He didn't want to let this go.

Howard let out a strangled laugh. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Maybe Peggy could show us London? And I always wanted to see Paris. The city of love.” He tried to put something suggestive on the last syllable. It was lost somewhere in the break of his voice and the sea as it reappeared from the clouds.

The Sun was just beginning to set over the Arctic landscape. He rubbed a finger over a mark on his throat that had long since vanished.

“Howard, I-“

There was a flash, cold, nothing.

*

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


*

_Air on his face. Bare feet._

His eyes flickered open to a white ceiling. Strange. Nothing in the war stayed white – everything was stained and ruined pretty damn fast. Even Howard hadn’t been able to invent something to fix that.

The bed he was lying on was too soft as well. He sat up. A baseball game crackled over a wireless next to the bed. Curtains were drawn over a window and they shifted slightly in the breeze, but sunlight still hazed over the room. Unfamiliar fabric rubbed against his legs.

Something – everything – about this, was very, very wrong.

A plane. He’d been on a plane. He’d crashed in the Arctic. Howard had been there – or he’d been talking to him anyway.

A nurse stood in the corner, her makeup done just like Peggy’s. Her uniform was clean.

Schmidt; the Tesseract. HYDRA. He had _died_. Hadn’t he?

A familiar crack of a bat on a ball was the only sound in the room. He listened to the commentary – and frowned. 

“Captain Rogers, you’re awake.” The nurse spoke, and he sat up.

“Where am I?” He asked, keeping his voice level as his senses caught fire.

“A hospital. You were recovered from a plane crash.” She answered with a smile. He didn’t return it.

“Is this a joke?” He asked, a warning.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Sir?”

“Where am I? And tell me the truth. Do you work for HYDRA?” Her eyes widened in panic as he stood up. “Don’t tell me I just recovered, because that game happened years ago. I was _there_.” He glared at her. She was lying to him, so she was the enemy.

“Captain Rogers, we need you to calm down-“

He tried to access Howard through the chip, but there was nothing; not even a crackle of pain as it malfunctioned. He was starting to panic.

He ran for the door. The nurse tried to reach for him, but he moved before she could get there; the façade was dropped immediately. Harsh, metallic walls greeted him, and armed soldiers immediately turned in his direction.

He ran before they could aim, not knowing where he was going. Nothing was familiar; the architecture wasn’t like any HYDRA base he’d taken down, nothing like any of his old army bases. He found stairs and took them with a jump, landing without a stumble. At least his reflexes and strength were still his. A large, glass door showed him daylight, and he sprinted, desperate to get away from this strange base. He needed to get back to Howard, get him to fix the chip and reassure him that he was fine –

He almost stopped on the street; buildings stretched miles above him. He’d never felt so small, and he ran straight forward, almost getting hit by – _was that a taxi?_

He waved an apology (manners never hurt, damn it) and kept going. A man stood in front of him (in the middle of the road?), and he stopped. That was strange in itself, but the appearance of the man... _Bald. Eyepatch. Wide stance. Go for the head, low centre of gravity keeps him balanced. One eye makes for a weakness._

In a split second he had the man sized up, but he paused. There was nothing aggressive in his stance. Soldiers surrounded them quickly, but he didn’t take his eyes off the man dressed in black.

“At ease, soldier! Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly.” Steve didn’t relax, although it took a lot. The alpha command was strong, twisting through the man’s words, but he only listened to one alpha.

“Break what?” He asked cautiously, not moving from his fighting stance.

“You've been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years.” Steve couldn’t stop the look of shock from crossing his face. But then… A stationary car caught his attention. He moved unconsciously towards it. There was someone else reflected on the window.

“You gonna be okay?” The man asked, light concern in his voice.

Steve didn’t hear him. His reflection stared back at him, a man out of time, a war relic seventy years from his home. But that wasn’t what bothered him.

His eyes; he’d grown used to the clear, cutting blue, the glow of the soulbond which only two people shared.

Cold, dead grey stared back.

He thought of his mother, and the shadows which lurked in the corners of her eyes, the grey he’d thought was natural. His knees buckled as he realised. The silent chip, the extinguished glow, the feeling of _lost_ he’d had since he’d woken that he knew had nothing to do with the time shift.

Howard.

“Cap? You gonna be okay?” The man repeated, worry much more pronounced. Steve didn’t turn.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just… I had a date.” He said, voice wobbling as his world crumbled.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the depressing ending :( (If you're interested/not satisfied, I have had ideas about a sequel. Let me know :))
> 
> Hope you liked!


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